Valley of Pretenders. John Russell Fearn
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a mouthful of filthy water. “Americanism, m’lud,” he gurgled to explain, “implying, as I understand it, a rather sudden cessation of life—symbolical, to wit, with the descent of a curtain upon a stage act, m’lud, whereby—”
“Oh, shut up!” yelled Mart. “This is no law court— Look out there!”
He ducked suddenly, forced Eda down, too. A mighty object, mad with fright and twice the size of a crocodile, breathed its last as its abdomen was transfixed by a vicious spire of dead tree stump projecting from the water. With bursting lungs the quartet emerged from the froth and foam of the death struggle.
“This is all most irregular—” Walbrook began to bleat, but Mart yelled above him:
“Say, that carcass wouldn’t make a bad raft! The lesser gravity will help it to float, too. Give me a hand with it. I don’t think these other creatures will attack us; they’re too concerned for their own safety.”
He struck out vigorously and clutched the object’s scaly body with both hands. It rolled over in a tumult of water. With some effort, which somehow reminded him of riding a bladder-horse in a swimming pool, Mart scrambled onto the broad back. Wedging himself as well as possible, he held down his hand, dragged the girl up with ease against the lesser gravity. Floundering crazily, Walbrook and Emmot followed suit.
“And now?” the Judge panted, very wet and monkeylike, as they began to drift downstream amidst the bubble and smother of stampeded animals.
Mart shrugged his shoulders. “I’m no fortune teller, judge. All we can do is go where this takes us. We’re safe enough from fire here, anyway. The space liner crew will douse it with their high-power apparatus, anyway.… At the moment our lives are still our own.”
“But for how long?” groaned Sir Basil, wiping his taut, scummy head. “Oh, woe is me! An unknown world, an unknown river—drifting further and further away from the ship.… And did you notice the water was quite warm?” he finished with sudden brightness.
“Naturally, on a world so near to Saturn,” panted Walbrook. “Where are your finer powers of perception, Sir Basil?”
“Rhea’s nearness to Saturn doesn’t altogether explain such warm water,” Mart murmured. “I’m inclined to suspect volcanic forces.”
“That’s right; be cheerful!” snapped Eda, tossing back her damp hair. “Next thing you’ll be telling us is that we’re drifting into a boiling whirlpool or something. If so, I’m heading for the bank. I never did like lobster.”
Mart didn’t answer her, and for a moment the party was silent. Then a bend in the river brought into view that strange aurora display the girl had pointed out a little while before—a quivering band of white, but augmented now by streaks of amber and lilac arcing across the purplish-blue sky.
“Wish I could figure out what that is,” Mart mused. “Seems to be centered over Rhea’s North Magnetic pole. High electrical energy of some kind—maybe connected somehow with that natural lodestone area we found.…”
He stared up at titanic Saturn flooding his warmth and light down on this fantastic little satellite, then suddenly he looked ahead again as there came to his ears the unmistakable sound of a dim, booming roar.
For the first time he noticed that the animals in the river were battling aside, struggling towards the silent, weird masses of the jungle on either bank. There was no danger of fire here; the danger area was far behind.
“Mart, what is that noise?” Eda demanded suddenly, seizing his arm. “It’s funny, but—but I remember that—Niagara sounded like that from a distance. Remember? Our honeymoon?”
“It’s a waterfall!” cried Walbrook hoarsely, clutching his skimpy gray hair. “It’s a waterfall, I tell you!” He danced perilously on the carcass. “Do something! Don’t you realize that my life is valuable? My—”
“Oh, shut up!” Mart growled. “You’re no more valuable than we are.…” He broke off, studying the accelerated speed of the water. “If it is a waterfall, we’re going right over it,” he breathed. “We couldn’t swim to the bank against this current in any case. The animals knew what was ahead; they got free in time. River’s clear of ’em.… Looks like we’re going places.”
Sir Basil gave a groan of despair. “And me with the case of Andrews-v-Interplanetary on hand! My brief—everything—for nothing!” His pop-eyes stared down the river, much as a cow regards a cloudbank.
The others stared with him, nor was it very long before another bend of the river brought into sight the filmy mist that hangs eternally over plunging waters. Backed by the rainbow hues of the distant aurora, the effect was both beautiful and extraordinary.
The carcass quickened speed. Mart turned to the legal men, clutching Eda to him.
“It’s a waterfall, all right—tidy size too, if the din and mist is any guide. The only thing that can save us is the lesser gravitation. As we go over, jump outward—outward for your lives.… You’ll miss the main water impact that way.”
He tensed himself as he spoke, keeping his balance with difficulty as the carcass bobbed up and down with ever increasing speed.
“This is most disturbing,” moaned Walbrook; then he turned a ripely jaundiced eye on Emmot. “Sir Basil, I shall look to you for assistance.”
“Willingly, m’lud—but I would bring to your learned notice that I am not proficient in the art of acrobatics.”
“Mart, suppose—” whispered Eda hopelessly; but he only tightened his hold.
“Take it easy, Eda. We’ve taken the hurdles so far and we’ll take this one—somehow.… Uh-uh! We’re off now—”
The carcass suddenly jolted forward, so violently that the four were nearly pitched off. As they rocked and swayed they felt it hurtle towards the creaming cataract ahead. Beyond, they had a transient glimpse of the river’s continuation through a deeply-wooded valley, to the left of which was a blunted, sullenly smoking volcano.
“Jump for your life!” Mart screamed suddenly, and simultaneously hurled himself outwards into space with all his power.
The effort of his jump dislodged Eda from him; in the lesser gravity she went soaring absurdly away from him, turning slow somersaults. To the rear Emmot and Walbrook rose up, looking curiously like effigies on Independence Day.
Twirling through the air Mart got a brief glimpse of the waterfall. It was at least 200 feet high.… He began to drop towards the river below with ever-increasing speed—automatically straightening his body for a dive. Eda was falling too, yards away.… He struck water—but struck something else as well that burst the universe into soundless white fire.…
CHAPTER III
Mart struggled back to consciousness, to the awareness of a throbbing head and murmuring voices. He opened his eyes to the full-bodied glare of Saturn streaming down upon him with its feverish warmth. The ground underneath him was stony and warm; several feet away the river raced past.
“Mart—! Oh, Mart, thank Heaven!” It was Eda suddenly beside him, her clothes nearly dry now in the blighting heat, her hands holding his head thankfully.
“O.K., don’t strangle me,” he mumbled, emerging from the clinch. “I’m all right now.… But say, what happened?”
“You caught yourself a glancing blow on a submerged rock. No damage done, thank goodness. We managed to pull you out.”
“Oh.…” Mart turned and caught sight of Emmot and Walbrook sitting a little distance off, looking behind them in blank astonishment. Mart turned again and winced as his head swam.
“Say, what—what the—?” he began blankly, and Eda cut in quickly:
“They’ve been waiting for you to recover, she explained anxiously. “They talk—talk English!”